As I write this, it is raining and the sun is shining brightly.
As we learned growing up, when this dual condition is in place, you can usually find a rainbow.
I have had a camera in my hands since I was seven years old. I had my tonsils out the week of my birthday and when my parents asked me as I recuperated in the hospital what I wanted for my birthday, I replied I wanted a camera. Those dear parents probably took a deep breath but thankfully acquiesced. Yes, that means I have had a camera handy for the past 77 years – it’s O.K. with me if you do the math.
For many years I have wanted to get a photo of a rainbow. With my luck when one appeared, either I didn’t have a camera with me, or by the time I got it out the rainbow had disappeared.
Finally about 20 years ago I was sitting at the Waffle House, the one north of town, and conditions were perfect for a rainbow to appear, I had my camera in the car, and as I got it out a double rainbow appeared. Yes, I got perfect photo of that double rainbow and with the exception of photos of my children, it’s the most precious one I’ve ever taken.
With graduations taking place all around us, I am reminded of my own. The date was January, 1951, and not too many years after the end of World War II. I had been asked to make one of the graduation speeches and I chose to speak about the educational system that had been revitalized in Germany. I forget how I got that information.
We had an opportunity to individually record our speech and I don’t remember specifically what type of record it was.
I took it home with great pride and played for my dad. He listened to it quietly and when it was over, he asked whose voice that was. I’m sure he was just kidding me, right?
My 65th high school reunion is this summer, and obviously I won’t be going. We have one every five years and I’m pleased I got from the first one straight through to the 11th one.
Those who know me personally will know I was on the debate team in high school will know I’m telling the truth. Yes, sometimes I think I’m still on it.
Anyway, at the seventh or eighth reunion, one of my fellow debate team members got highly ticked with me when I couldn’t remember the subject of the debate we practiced in my parents living room – lo, some 40 years earlier. Sorry, Richard.
Someone has asked me to write more on the individual history of the various communities in Fayette County. Happy to do that – – – –
Remember: Life is a service job.
